Sunday, October 16, 2005

weakened

He moves like water looking for the lowest point in the room. His weak smile before the coffee, the air thinner and damp. I am accumulating again. Outside the glass, trees falling to fire, slow blue static of rain. Someone left a pile of fruit beside the dumpster, punched and resigned. Please, now, bring me more small sounds. Turtle the covers and breathe your breath. This is the relief map of morning.

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